Undignified Last Words
by Catherine Wheels
Summary: America? I never loved the twit. Don't get the wrong idea just because I died for him. -Character Death. Duh-


_A/N: I could title this "I'm a Sellout" but I won't. I should, though... Anyway. I don't really like the England/America pairing, but I do like how ridiculous they are together. And in my 'darker and edgier' version, England would probably set his face on fire before he let anything happen to America._

_Also, this was inspired by a comic on DeviantArt where China was eating America's fingers (states) as compensation for debt. I thought that was brilliant. I love dark China. And here you get darkFemChina. Anyway, I just thought I should mention that so that somebody doesn't go "OMG. You stole teh idea from teh DA!" Because, yes, I was inspired, but I decided that nothing by way of taking states had actually happened yet. I like the looming horror better than actually watching the person go through the grinder, you know what I mean? _

_Oh! Did I mention? Character Death._

* * *

I died for America, but let me inform you: I've never loved the wanker. I am perfectly clear on that. Love is something that people share over hot coco and poetry. It's more than sex (which yes, I had with him) and it's more than the occasional teary night or drunken nostalgic rambling. And at the same time as I never loved him, I never wanted harm to come to him. So I did something stupid. But then again, as children often say, he started it.

When I came to his bedside, I was shocked. I knew he was an idiot, but I didn't know he was an idiot without a sense of self-preservation. He was black and blue, bleeding slightly from his mouth.

"Hey pal," he said with a slight grin, his eyes half swollen shut. "Toris said I was looking better. Crazy shit, huh?"

"Crazy shit?" I stared at him, "Is that all you can say for yourself, you git?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"You got… beaten to a pulp by China. I would expect something more along the lines of 'this means war.' Or something more typically you."

He shook his head, and winced. "I… I can't go to war with that bitch. She'll beat me up again. You know, I didn't think it was even physically possible for a guy to get beat up so badly by such a small chick…"

"Don't you learn anything by watching?" I sighed, "Both Russia and I had, as you said, our asses handed to us by Afghanistan. Size and gender mean nothing."

"Except between the sheets." America began to laugh, and then his face twisted with pain, and he took a deep breath, coughing up blood before sighing. "That sucks."

I sat stone still and could only gape. What had happened to him? Since when had China been so forceful? "Alfred…"

"Fuck it, man," he snapped at me, turning his head slightly. "I made a joke. Laugh at my fucking joke."

"Your joke was stupid. I stopped laughing at sex humor sometime around 1500."

"You lost your sense of humor in 1500? That's a drag. No wonder you're so damn grouchy all the time."

"Forgive me for being grouchy about you and… ICU. I'm sorry I can't be in a more damn chipper mood."

"It's not ICU," America said, grinning slightly. "That was yesterday. Toris is a miracle worker. Did you know that? Go get beat up sometime. He's like… a guardian fucking angel or something."

"Don't swear before mentioning a guardian angel. It's just vulgar."

He laughed again, more blood oozing out of his mouth. "God…" he said finally, wiping his chin. "I'm a wreck."

I could only stare at him, feeling sick to my stomach. His beautiful eyes were dim under swollen lids, and his bright hair was slightly dirty. I wanted him to be safe again, to know his limits and understand things. "Why don't you just pay China back?"

"I can't," he mumbled. "I'm flat broke. You know that. Less than broke… So China just started to beat the shit out of me. Said she'd had it with my bullshit. And if I don't pay her back soon… She's gonna start cutting off states."

"What?" I half-choked on my own breath. "Cutting off states? She can't just take states from you!"

"Well," he looked up at me, "I am broke…"

I paused, knowing what I was about to do was going to insult him. "Do you need help, Alfred?"

"Help?" As expected, he tried to spring up and grab me, but only managed to flail and fall back, his eyes closed tight, coughing again. "Fuck you," he finally replied after taking long breaths that sounded like they were full of mucus. "I don't take help."

I stood up, glaring at him. I'd had enough of watching him suffer. "That's a damn pity, Alfred. As I'm going to give it to you."

"Fuck you!" he shouted as I began to leave. "Fuck you! Don't you dare get involved, you dumbass! You'll get yourself hurt!"

For a moment, I stopped, and then turned around, grabbing his wrist and kissing him. He squirmed, and then relaxed. His mouth tasted salty and I was aware of blood. "You're going to get it," I said firmly, "Whether you want it or not."

When I died, it was fast. Japan finished the job in one fell swoop and I fell sideways against the table. China was screaming that it was her good dishes I was ruining. What an idiot, Japan! What an idiot indeed.

I was sitting at the table, explaining my situation when the trouble began.

"I can't believe you're doing this for him," China said, laughing. She had an ugly, high pitched laugh. I could hardly believe I put up with it for years. Looking at her then, with her sharp face and her cruel smile, I could hardly believe I'd ever found her attractive. I suppose I must have, to have slept with her as often as I did… But times changed, of course. "After all, he's nothing but a fat idiot with an entitlement problem."

I didn't think before saying, "Like Russia?"

China fell silent and glared. "Your little dog needs to learn that some things are important to me, and he should respect that. Money is one of those things."

I was vaguely aware that Japan was standing behind me now as I spoke. "He knows the value of it."

"No he doesn't," Japan said behind me, coldly. "He knows the value of war."

"Don't judge him based on what he had to do to you," I replied, my voice level. "And don't deny that it had to be done."

"You're testing our patience," China said flatly. "What do you want?"

"I'm…" I paused, "I'm giving you myself in place of his debts."

There was a dead silence. "What?" she finally asked, "I don't understand."

"What's not to understand?" I stood up, beginning to unbutton my uniform. "I'm prepared to be sacrificed for him. Take me in place of his debts."

China sized me up for a moment and then shook her head. "Love makes you stupid, England."

"I'm not in love."

"Really?"

"Yes, really, you hussy. I'm not in love. I'm just doing something nice. Don't be a twit." Those were my last words, and then China motioned to Japan, and I was down.

I hear, these days, that America is doing better. The rest of Europe is in a tizzy, of course, and France is on the verge of collapse. I did love France, once, maybe, but none of this is my concern now. Death is rather like a never-ending tea-party, but with constantly current news papers. I don't know why I didn't think of this before.

They're all laughing at me for loving him too much, for being such a willing victim. But they don't know the first thing. I didn't love him at all. Never even once. If I had loved him, I wouldn't have made him live without me.


End file.
